


Beat of the Harvest

by HandwithQuill



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Smut, repeatinglitanies prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-19
Updated: 2016-04-19
Packaged: 2018-06-03 04:39:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6596983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HandwithQuill/pseuds/HandwithQuill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Repeatinglitanies prompt:Belle is one of the maidens chosen to “spill their virgin blood” to ensure a bountiful harvest for the village. Each girl is to drink a special potion that temporarily blinds them and are afterward let loose on different parts of the field. The first man they see once they regain sight would be their partner for the night. In Belle’s case, her partner is a stranger. A man wearing crocodile leather…maybe even crocodile skin…</p>
<p>As always, I’ve strayed a little</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beat of the Harvest

**Author's Note:**

> If people like this, I do have an idea for a continuation. It might be vaguely based on the myth of cupid and psyche
> 
> A/N 2: Thank you to Betweenpaperpages for giving this a beta and to Little-inkstone for the title help! Love you!

“I'll do it.”

The voice came from the back of the room. All turned to see the woman standing there. She stood proudly, head held high. Murmurs began in the crowd as the former Lady Belle of Avalon slowly made her way to the front. She took the hands of the two terrified girls standing there, before she turned to the village Elders.

“My Lady-”

“I will do it,” she told them again. “I may not be in a position of power anymore, but I still love this village and will do whatever is necessary to protect it.” She turned back to the girls, wiping the tears off the cheeks of one of them. “And those in it.”

“Please, My Lady? It would not be proper.”

“Proper?” She met their eyes. “Is it proper to send two terrified children out there for who knows what fate? Just because generations ago a deal was made for endless bountiful harvests. None of the girls ever sent out there ever remember what happened to them. Only the marks on their bodies. If I can stop it even once, I will!” They lowered their eyes. “I will do it! It's three days until the harvest moon, has the potion arrived yet?”

“Yes, My Lady.”

“Fine, finish the preparation. I will return at dusk in three days.” She turned, skirts swirling around her as the murmuring increases. None pay attention to the form that flickers in the corner, inhuman eyes following the beauty as she leaves.

** ** * ** **

Three days later she stood on the edge of a field of wheat. The setting sun painted the sky in beautiful pinks and golds. She stared hard at the sight as it was the last thing she would see for the next day and a half.

She heard footsteps behind her and turned to see the Elders approach.

“My Lady, Are you su—”

“Do you have the potion?” she cut him off, hands smoothing down the simple blue dress she had chosen to wear

“Yes, My Lady.” With a sigh he held it out to her. She took it and he motioned to a young man standing behind him. “Once you have taken it, Gerald will escort you out.”

She nodded, uncorked the bottle, and with a deep breath, swallowed the contents. It was sweeter than she thought it was going to be, tasting almost as she thought the clouds she was just staring at would, and it left her licking her lips.

Then everything went black.

She swayed, her arms going out to steady her. A hand grasped her arm gently, before trailing down and taking her hand.

“This way, My Lady,” a soft voice said as she was pulled forward. She went with him, steps at first unsure in the unwavering darkness. She extended her other arm to help with her balance, her hand reaching out to play with the passing stalks of wheat. She wasn't sure how long they walked before they came to a halt. “Step up, My Lady.”

He tugged her hand lightly and she reached out with her foot to find the stone floor of the pavilion. Stepping onto it, she used her other hand to feel for the stone monument she knew was in the center. She hated calling it an altar, even though that was what it was. The solid slab of rock was waist height and one end was inclined, like a chaise lounge. She pressed lightly on the thick mattress there before spinning and hoisting herself onto it.

“Here, My Lady,” Gerald said, handing her a blanket as she made herself comfortable on the mound of pillows. She could feel him standing next to her, hesitating, and she wondered if he was going to ask if she was sure again. “The potion won't wear off until well after sunrise. I will return before then to escort you back.

“Thank you, Gerald,” she told him and listened to him leave, cocking her head to the side when his steps faltered just outside the pavilion.

“F-fare you well, My Lady,” he stuttered out before sprinting off into the fields. She sighed and settled back to wait.

The cooling air let her know that the sun had set and she cocked her head to try to hear anyone approaching. No one knew what was out among the wheat. The pavilion was off limits to all except for during the harvest, and then only the chosen were allowed. When the elders retrieved the girls the next morning, they were always asleep. When they awoke, they had no memories of the night before. On their arms and leg were strange bruises, nearly perfect circles with a tiny dot in the center.

If Belle were being honest with herself, she would say curiosity was in part why she volunteered. She did want to protect the girls who were going to be this year's chosen, but deep inside she wondered what happened out here each year. What type of creature did her ancestors make a deal with?

She must have fallen into a light doze as she startled awake when she heard boots on the gravel. She sat upright on the monument, clutching the blankets around her. The steps stopped and she turned her head to where she felt someone was watching her.

“Who's there?” she called. There was no response for a full minute, then the boots came closer.

“Hold out your arm.”

The voice was whispered, but the command in it was firm. She extend her arm and waited. She could hear clinking of glass as something was set down by her feet and then a hand grasped her arm, trailing down until it held her pointer finger.

“What are you doing?” she asked. Again there was no response, but she jumped, hissing, as a sharp pain exploded on her fingertip. Did he, cause it was a he, bite her? She heard the clinking again and her hand was jerked forward, his fingers pinching on her abused fingertip. She cocked her head again when she heard the sound of liquid hitting glass.

More liquid and more clinking occurred, the all was quiet for a few moments.

“Hm...” More sounds of something being mixed. “Promising.”

“What—” She cut off when her sleeve was pulled up to her shoulder and a string was tied just above her elbow. She winched as it was pulled tight.

“Squeeze,” he told her, putting a large piece of cloth in her hand. She did, and his hand covered her, holding her hand closed tighter. Then she jumped again as his hand slapped down on the crook of her elbow.

“What are you doing? What's promising?”

He stopped what he was doing and she felt him looking at her.

“You're different than what they usually send me.” She felt his hand grab her chin. “Usually by now the girl is crying and screaming in terror. It gets so annoying, but I put them to sleep with a memory charm. But you, you're not afraid, are you?”

“Not yet. You haven't done anything scary.”

He snorted and took her arm again.

“This will hurt just like your finger, but try not to move,I don't want to lose any.”

“Any what? Ouch!”

He chuckled, holding her arm still.

“Keep squeezing, like this.” His hand covered her again and repeatedly squeezed her hand. She copied the movement. “Why did you volunteer?”

“What?”

“Three days ago, when the council chose those girls, you volunteered. Why?”

“You were there?”

“Yes. And why did Lady Belle of the Marchlands volunteer to, what are they still calling it? Oh, yes, spill her virgin blood to the monster for a good harvest.”

“Isn't that wha—, um... aren't you going to...um...”

He chuckled again and tapped her arm.

“There are more ways to 'spill your blood', My Lady, then taking your virginity.”

“You're taking my blood? Why? How?” She couldn't understand. After all these centuries, all the girls that had been sent out her, none of them had been...deflowered.

“The how is that I've inserted a hollow needle into the vein in your arm, every time you squeeze your hand, your blood is pushed out of the needle into a vial the needle it connected to. As for the why, I'm looking for something.”

“In my blood?” She frowned. “In the blood of my people going back centuries? What are you looking for?”

“None of your concern, My Lady,” he rebuked, his voice becoming hard. “Keep squeezing.”

She did and a strange tension filled the air as they spoke no more. She could feel him standing close to her, his hand occasionally running up and down her arm, his hand covering hers to squeezes her hand tighter. The texture of his skin was strange. It felt thicker than human skin, but it wasn't rough. She shivered suddenly, the hair on her arms rising, as she wondered what his hands would feel like on the rest of her. She let out a shuddering sigh and shook away the thought even as a ache started low in her belly.

“Damn,” he sighed and she heard liquid sloshing in glass. For a second, her stomach rolled as she realized it was her blood. “It's not enough. I need more!”

She swallowed, her heart pounding as she wondered what he would to get it. His foot steps took him away from her to the foot of the stone monument she was laying on.

“The best place to get the blood flowing from you is at the neck, but I'd rather not risk it. So, My Lady, I'm going to have to do things a little more inappropriately.”

“What do you-” She cut off with a gasp.

What he meant became clear as his hands fell onto her ankles and he pushed up her skirts. His thumbs were trailing up the inside of her thighs, stopping when they reached the fastening of her stockings. She let out a gasp, the ache in her belly growing bigger and moving lower, as he hooked his nail under the lace and pulled the knot free. She bit her lip on a moan as his fingertip caressed a spot high up her inner thigh. She could feel her pounding pulse in the spot.

“Here,” he said, tapping the spot. “I need to take it from here.”

“O-oh?” She breathed.

“Yes. There will be the same type of pinch as on your finger and arm.”

There was more a clinking of glass and he pushed her legs apart. She leaned back on the monument, that strange ache causing her internal muscle the clench and unclench as his shoulders rubbed against her legs. She jumped slightly at the pinch, but his hand landed on the outer part of her leg and caressed her in a soothing motions.

“Hm. We're going to have to get your heart rate up for this to work.” His comment ended on a sigh and she jumped.

“Oh!” she gasped, her hips arching up as his breath went right through the slit in her drawers to land on her most intimate place. Heat racing from her stomach to between her legs causing the ache to explode into a desire for something, but she didn't know what.

He went still between her legs, the tension in the air changed, it filled with anticipation as she felt him turn his head to face her sex. The sounds of the night seemed to cease as she heard him draw in a breath and blow it across her rapidly moistening nether lips.

She gasped again, hips wiggling at the delicious ache that pulsed there.

“Well, My Lady,” he said and she could hear the smirk in his voice, “It seems the how has revealed itself.”

“What-Oh!”

He leaned forward and she felt the tip of his nose trace along her folds. She gasped again, her hand clenching in the mattress under her. Her breathing grew heavy and he did it again and again. When he grasped her hips and ran his tongue from bottom to top, she howled!

Her hands came to clench in his hair, but she didn't know if it was to pull him away or press his face closer. She just whimpered when he chuckled, sending shocks of pleasure through her body. He continued to lick at her, delving his tongue into her, thrusting it as deep as it could go, causing her to shift in his grip, wanting to lift her hips to meet each thrust. She moaned and writhed. And when he removed his tongue, letting his fingers take its place, and drew it up to a swirl around a spot at the top of her folds that had bright lights flashing in the darkness that she saw, she let out a hoarse scream as a wave of pleasure overtook her body, every nerve seemed on fire as she shuddered in his arms.

When reality returned to her, her body was limp and languid on the mattress. He was still between her legs, his hand caressing her lightly as he placed kisses along her inner thighs. She tugged the lock of hair she held tightly and he lifted his head.

“How do you feel, My Lady?”

She opened her mouth to respond, but no sound emerged. She didn't think she was about to do anything more then lay there. The thought must have been on her face thought as he chuckles and places one more kiss to her leg, before she can feel his removing the needle from her leg.

“Did-did you get enough?” she asked, sitting up and reaching for her stocking to re-tie them.

“I think so,” he told her and she heard the clink of glass one last time and the click of a pouch being closed. She wrapped her arms around her knees, suddenly feeling vulnerable. She bit her lip and hesitantly held out her hand, hoping he was looking at her. She sighted in relief as he took her hand and cupped her cheek. He gently kissed her.

“Thank you, My Lady,” he whispered against her lips, “This is the closest I've been in centuries.” He kissed her again. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome,” she breathed, but know he was gone by the tingle of magic in the air.

** ** * ** **

She didn't remember falling asleep, but the next morning, Gerald was shaking her awake. The harvest that years was as bountiful as ever and, as she watched them bring in the wheat, she wondered if he was able to do what he needed with her blood. 

She thought about it as the trees lost their leave and the air turned chilly. She thought about it during the long winter nights and her hand slipped down to cup between her legs. She bit her lip to keep quiet as her fingers moved. Silence gasps left her and her hips bucked as she remembered the feel of his tongue on her, his fingers in her, as she shuddered in the wave of pleasure that overwhelmed her. 

When it came time for the workers to sow the field again, she began to wonder if he would keep the deal for the harvest if he no longer needed her blood. But she didn’t have to worry as when the harvest came the next year, the sight taking potion came arrived at the usual time, this time with a note.

_“Give this to the Lady Belle.”_


End file.
